


The Little Things

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, M/M, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-11
Updated: 2013-08-11
Packaged: 2017-12-23 02:36:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/920994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Castiel have spent too many years together. What do you describe when you have to sum up an entire relationship??</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Little Things

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing too many depressing things about these two and I had to break up the darkness with a little fluff. Hope you enjoy.

They say, when you die, your life flashes before your eyes.  
They say you remember the most important events of your life.  
They say you’ll remember specifics, actions, big moments.  
But no one told him that you miss the little things.

And Castiel misses the little things.

He misses the feel of eyelashes on his cheek.  
He misses pancakes on Sunday mornings.  
He misses making him laugh so hard that he thinks he’s going to pass out.  
He misses poker nights with Sam and his wife.  
He misses arguing in the supermarket over whether or not to try something new, or to make burgers for the third night in a row.  
He misses folding laundry, and the way his shirts smell like him, even after they’re fresh out of the dryer.  
He misses tender morning kisses.  
He misses stargazing on the back of the Impala.  
He misses the feel of soft hair under his hands, as he grips him tight.  
He misses waking up to a bright green gaze.  
He misses the feel of his mouth surrounding him, his tongue sending electric thrills to his very core.  
He misses back-to-school nights, giggling with him over the other children's “works of art.”  
He misses stealing his clothes, and the way his eyes light up when he sees him wearing them.  
He misses tickle fights, he misses grumpy teasing, he misses tousling his hair playfully.  
He misses the way he smells right after a shower.  
He misses seeing hickeys on his neck, and misses his blush when he gets asked about them.  
He misses holding hands.  
He misses the way he clutches his back when he’s inside him, panting against his chest.  
He misses stealing the covers in the middle of the night, and finding them stolen back in the morning.  
He misses his freckles.  
He misses walking slowly around the city, in the rain, in the dark, talking about nothing.  
He misses the laugh lines around his eyes that don’t detract, but only heighten his joy and make him more beautiful.  
He misses the way his whole body shivers when he comes.  
He misses waking up, feeling him curled around him, his breath slow with sleep.  
He misses dirty leather coats, and plaid, and denim that’s become soft with too many washes.  
He misses callused fingers tracing up his spine, his arm, his cheekbones.  
He misses the way his lips look when he says, “I love you.”

He misses Dean.

He has stayed long enough to say his goodbyes, but as he kneels by the marble headstone, he realized he has been away long enough.  
Castiel realizes he has an appointment. He has to meet someone up in heaven.

Because he misses the little things.


End file.
